


In the Comfort of Our Own Home

by ironlin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fantastic Racism, Fire, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Keith's afraid of fire, Kosmo - Freeform, M/M, Married Sheith, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective shiro, Shiro's a good husband, Torture, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28095279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironlin/pseuds/ironlin
Summary: After a long day of work, all Keith wanted was to relax with his husband. But when an anti-Galra terrorist group attacks them in their own home, Keith is reminded of his past, and almost loses everything. Including Shiro.
Relationships: Keith/shiro, sheith
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	In the Comfort of Our Own Home

**Author's Note:**

> hi! welcome to my second story in this fandom, and on this site. i hope you all enjoy! i absolutely love myself some keith whump, and can never resist not writing about it. this is for all of you that love to hurt keith in the most sadistic ways possible. have fun reading!
> 
> love,  
> lin

The more he thought about it, the more Keith realized that he hadn’t felt _this_ tired in months. 

As he and Shiro finally made it to their house, he was on the verge of collapse, eyes tired and droopy, body sluggish. He was barely holding on to his husband’s hand at this point. 

“Home sweet home,” Shiro murmured softly, and pressed a tender kiss to Keith’s temple while he took his keys out. It seemed he had forgotten he even needed to do that in the first place. 

When the door finally closed, Keith found the two of them sliding down against it, exhausted. Kosmo was instantly by their sides, pushing his long snout towards them with the goal of being pet. Unable to deny the wolf anything, Keith went to stroking his fluffy, dark fur lovingly. 

“I hate twelve hour meetings,” he said, throwing his head back in frustration. “They should be illegal.”

Shiro simply laughed and nuzzled his face into the crook of Keith’s neck. “I know, baby, I know,” he replied with a tiny, breathtaking smile. He never failed to make Keith’s stomach flutter with butterflies, make his heart all warm and fuzzy. “Come on, let’s head upstairs. Get some sleep.”

“I don’t think I can move,” Keith muttered with a groan. “Can we just stay here for a bit?”

Another chuckle, one that warmed his entire body like a fireplace would. God, how he loved him. “On the floor, Keith? Instead of a nice, warm bed?”

Unable to help the grin that graced his lips, Keith reached for Shiro’s hand so he could press his lips to the older’s knuckles, lingering there. He was now rubbing Kosmo’s belly blindly. “Just a few minutes,” he said, eyelids slipping shut. He could honestly just pass out here, as uncomfortable as it was. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” was all that Shiro said, and gently pulled him into his arms, holding him close. “We’ll stay here.”

While Keith took a quick moment to _exist_ without any responsibilities or worries, he could feel Shiro playing with the wedding band on his left hand, silently admiring it and sometimes even kissing it ever so gently. There was absolutely no way for the younger to hold back the happy smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

“You’re beautiful, Keith, you know that?” the voice above him whispered, and the simple compliment was enough to make Keith blush furiously.

“No, you,” he replied shyly as he hid his face in Shiro’s chest. Slender fingers entangled themselves in his growing hair, massaging his scalp, making him chuckle softly.

“Does that feel good?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Keith immediately said, though he guessed that Shiro already knew the answer. 

“Then how about we continue this in bed?” the other offered, and, without waiting for a yes or a no, stood up with Keith still in his arms. 

“Shiro!” Keith exclaimed, voice tired but fond. Giggles left his mouth as his partner carried him bridal style all the way to their room, Kosmo trailing right behind them, and he desperately clung onto Shiro just in case. There was no reason to, however, since Shiro would have never dropped him. Never. That’s what made Keith feel so secure and content in his presence: the knowledge that he would always be safe with Shiro there. “I could have walked, you know that?”

“Of course I do. I know how capable you are.” Right as they made it inside and Shiro finally placed Keith back on solid ground, he eagerly leaned forward to press their lips together. “But this is so much more fun.”

Keith growled against his mouth, yet did nothing to pull away, relishing in the wonderful feeling of being kissed and complimented by someone as incredible as Shiro. Never would he have thought he’d have this. Even now it was hard to believe, and the only two things that proved it was actually real were their locked lips and dancing tongues. 

When they slowly pulled away, Keith let his hands roam all over the older man’s chest, running over the pure muscle beneath his fingertips. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he announced quietly. As exhausted as he was, he felt way too _dirty_. He needed to wash up, and then he could relax all he wanted, all curled up beside Shiro with nothing else to think about.

The other nodded in acknowledgement. “Want me to join you?” he asked, like he always did. 

Usually, he happily said yes. Tonight, however, Keith genuinely didn’t have it in him to do anything more than _get clean._ “No, not this time, Takashi. But I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Take your time, baby. You know I’m not going anywhere.”

The warm water that cascaded down his back and shoulders felt heavenly. Keith could feel so much tension just washing away with every minute that passed by. He couldn’t believe how locked up his body was, how much it suffered just because of an extremely long debriefing back at the Garrison. Maybe he was getting too old for this, Keith briefly wondered, only to shake his head and smile. He was only twenty-eight years of age, after all — not old at all. There was so much more for him to do. A few boring, seemingly neverending meetings weren’t about to change that. 

Reluctantly, Keith forced himself not to stand under the wonderful spray for hours, and made quick work of cleaning up, drying off, then putting on some comfortable sweatpants. He couldn’t care less about a shirt at the moment. Besides, he knew Shiro appreciated the look of him topless, despite how self conscious and strange he felt about it. 

He chose not to linger on his own insecurities, though. Now, it was time for him and his partner to relax, to revel in each other’s presence with nothing to bother them. They deserved this. 

“Feeling better?” Shiro said softly when Keith emerged from the bathroom, already sitting against the headboard of their bed with a book in hand, glasses on. His eyes seemed to light up upon seeing his companion, expression full of genuine, unwavering adoration. He never failed to make Keith’s breath hitch in shock. Never had he been _looked at_ this way until he met Shiro. 

Keith silently vowed to try to repay Shiro’s love in full, and be worthy of his presence and commitment. 

“Much,” he muttered, moving to sit down on the soft mattress right in front of the older. Pure instinct had him lying practically on top of Shiro, cheek against his heart. Being able to hear Shiro’s steady pulse was vital for Keith. It helped him relax and let go of all his fears of losing his best friend again, something he knew would break him if ever to happen sometime in the future. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

Humming in response, Shiro dipped his head so he could kiss Keith's temple, carefully maneuvering the two of them so they could get more comfortable. “I think I’m going to call Iverson tomorrow morning, tell him you and I are taking a few days off.”

“That’s a good idea. You think he’ll be on board with it?”

“Honestly, I don’t care.” Shiro’s reply was confident, so simple. “I need a few days off, with my wonderful husband. Whether Iverson likes it or not, we need a small vacation. We’ve been working way too hard lately, anyway.”

“Hmm … you’re right,” Keith said once the older finished, words laced with the pull of sleep. “A vacation does sound nice.”

“It won’t be like our honeymoon, but I’m sure it’ll be just as lovely.”

At that, Keith looked up, studied Shiro with wonder in his eyes. “Of course it will be,” he assured in the softest tone he could manage. “As long as I’m with you, I’m perfectly happy.”

Another happy hum escaped Shiro, and then he was bringing his lips down upon Keith’s once more, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Not that Keith was complaining. The privilege of kissing Shiro was something he would never, ever take for granted. 

“I love you,” Shiro whispered after a few seconds, hand cupping Keith’s right cheek, calloused thumb brushing over his jaw. At this point in their marriage, he didn’t feel guilty about the scar anymore, only regressing back to old habits when he had a particularly bad nightmare that would send him down that rabbithole of regret. 

“I love you, too,” Keith replied without any hesitation. He was so incredibly happy that they were slowly recovering from that awful day at the cloning facility, as well as all the other shit they’d been through. It only made Keith love Shiro more, if that was even possible. “Forever and always.”

“Forever and always,” Shiro repeated. He took another moment just to watch Keith, clearly taking him in, before he settled back against his pillow. His human arm moved to cradle his companion in a loose embrace, hand splayed across Keith’s hip.

Soon, the younger felt his body start to relax. With a long sigh, Keith allowed his eyelids to close, let himself curl up around Shiro. The exhaustion he’d felt earlier was multiplying, weighing him down and making itself known. Even the way Shiro caressed his bare skin was enough for sleep to start pulling him in. 

It was all so peaceful, he realized. 

Rarely were their lives like this. Between Keith’s humanitarian work, and Shiro being the head of the entire Garrison, being able to just cuddle after a long day of work was usually out of the question. Sometimes, they didn’t even see each other until late at night, when one would come home and the other was already in bed, asleep. On those days, they would only share a sleepy kiss and a slurred _I love you_ , before they both dropped dead. 

Keith had no idea how much he actually missed all this until now, a calloused hand running over Shiro’s stomach lazily. Sure, he loved doing the work he and his husband were doing. He took a lot of pride in everything they’d accomplished over the last few years. 

But when he really took a second to think about it, simply lying on a soft bed by Shiro’s side was ten times better. 

Soon, he was extremely close to finally dozing off, unable to fight off the exhaustion anymore, especially when Shiro’s fingers ghosted over his scarred shoulder in the way he liked while the other silently read. However, the sudden sound of glass breaking had Keith jerking in surprise, eyes going wide as familiar suspicion set it. “Did you hear that?” he asked hesitantly, already moving to stand up. He quickly opened a drawer and grabbed his knife, just in case. 

A small part of his brain immediately told him that he was just being paranoid, that this was his PTSD acting up again. He and Shiro both had it, the years of fighting and seeing what they’d seen having caught up with them the minute the war had ended. It was possible that this was just his demons talking, planting seeds of irrational fear in the forefront of his mind. 

Thankfully for him, though, Shiro nodded, immediately putting his novel and glasses aside and following Keith to the door. Both of their bodies were extremely tense now, in the worst way possible. In the way that screamed danger. “Kosmo?” the older called, voice barely above a whisper. Within a second, the loyal space wolf poked his head from the guest room, his favorite place to be, visibly confused. 

The confusion quickly morphed into a battle-ready snarl once he saw the looks on his owners’ faces. At this point in their lives, Kosmo could sense when something was wrong, for which Keith was grateful. 

Together, the three of them continued on. Right as they reached the stairs, Keith saw Shiro’s prosthetic power up, barely making any noise. How could something so incredibly powerful be just as gentle when Shiro needed it to be? The thought brought heavy shivers up Keith’s rigid spine, and he couldn’t help but gasp when familiar lips pressed to his cheek. No words were spoken as Shiro provided him with the comfort and strength they both needed to keep going, hand in hand. 

As they made it downstairs, Keith was able to see what had caused the noise from earlier. It was a vase that had once been on their kitchen counter, having shattered on the floor and sending beautiful red roses on the floor. Shiro had gifted them to Keith about a week ago, for no other reason than to show his unwavering love. 

The sight of them sprawled out like that put a frown on the former Black Paladin’s face, and he found himself unable to move, glued to his spot while realization set in. “Takashi, I think there’s-”

And then somebody was tackling him to the ground. Pure instinct washed over him like a wave, and Keith rushed to push them off. He quickly sent his knife flying blindly at his attacker, the loud groan of agony letting him know that he’d hit his target. Keith sprung to his feet, looking around with shock in his eyes. 

More bodies flew at him, and he caught glimpses of knives in the strangers’ hands. He relentlessly fought, successful in wounding most of them with his Marmora blade. At one point, one attacker managed to swipe his weapon across Keith’s ribs, but nothing deterred him. 

Pain didn’t matter in that moment. Protecting his home and his husband did.

It wasn’t until he heard a familiar scream that he paused, and that was enough for somebody to kick him in the stomach, sending him right back to the ground again. A heavy boot planted itself on Keith’s chest, barely giving him any room to move. Looking up, Keith felt his heart drop when he saw Shiro, his everything, on his knees with a gun pressed to his head, left arm holding onto his prosthetic with discomfort written across his face. 

“Move, and my man will shoot,” a voice warned right next to his ear, making Keith flinch. He hated being snuck up on like this. But for the sake of Shiro, he went completely still, gaze locked on the other desperately. 

“Keith, I’m alright,” Shiro quickly assured, only to wince when the pistol was shoved deeper into his neck. “I’m okay, baby.”

“Aw, how sweet,” that same voice cooed, mocking and the opposite of friendly. 

“Don’t you _dare_ fucking touch him,” Keith growled, though he refused to struggle any more, even when he was forced to kneel. He couldn’t risk Shiro getting hurt. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Kosmo lying on the ground, some kind of dart embedded in his neck, among that thick coat of dark, soft fur. He was still breathing, thank god, but he was clearly asleep, probably having been injected with an anesthetic of sorts. 

This was bad. Really, really bad. 

“You think you’re in the position to be making demands? Know who you’re talking to, halfbreed.” 

The stranger speaking moved to stand in front of Keith, which gave the young man the perfect opportunity to figure out who the hell he was. It didn’t go as planned because the bastard, along with all his buddies, was wearing a black ski mask. 

Somehow, though, Keith knew exactly who these people were. The face coverings, the black skin-tight bodysuits, the plethora of weapons. His blood went cold as his brain made the connection. 

“You’re those terrorists,” he breathed out, eyes wide. “You’re G.R.E.A.”

 _Galra Removal and Eradication Alliance_. That’s what the acronym stood for. This was a coalition made up of humans that were determined to wipe out all Galra from planet Earth, whether or not they’re good or bad. They especially had a thing against none other than Keith, who they genuinely believed was a danger to the human race, and needed to be taken out. Months ago, there had even been a direct attack on him, but it was poorly planned, so Keith had managed to escape completely unharmed. He and Shiro had both thought that since the mission was deemed a failure, G.R.E.A. would just leave it alone. 

He would have never predicted that this terrorist group would ambush them in their _own home_ and hold them hostage like this. 

Keith could feel sudden tremors running up his now rigid spine, both from the adrenaline as well as the fear of what would happen to him and Shiro.

That’s right,” the light skinned, masked stranger towering over him said in a cruel, almost excited, voice. “Here we are, in this lovely little house you call yours. I must say, you did a wonderful job with the furniture. It … suits you.” An ugly smile graced the man’s lips, one that made Keith tremble even harder. 

“Who are you?” he asked wearily, because somehow, he’d never known what the other’s name was. This was the first time Keith ー or anyone, really ー ever got a glimpse of him. Until tonight, the head of G.R.E.A. never joined his loyal followers on missions, choosing to hide in the shadows while countless innocent people died. The amount of blood on this monster’s hands made Keith sick to his stomach with grief and regret. “What are you doing here?”

Chuckling darkly, the man started to take off his mask, unafraid as he stared right at Keith. “My name is Ronny Field. But most people know me as Reaper,” he announced. “And I, along with some of my best men, half of which you mercilessly killed, have come here to punish you. To make you suffer for everything you’ve done to us and the rest of the human race.”

“Done? What did Keith ever do to you other than protect you, and try to keep you safe?” 

This time, Shiro was the one who spoke, still kneeling, still grasping onto his Altean arm. There seemed to be some kind of device on it, probably suppressing its power and no doubt extremely painful, if the electric sparks around it were anything to go by. Even still, Shiro showed no signs of discomfort, just confusion. However, Keith knew that he was more than a little worried. Shiro could never hide any kind of emotion from him; to Keith, he was always an open book. 

That was what made this entire horrible situation so much worse. 

But Field, who could apparently also read right through Shiro, was having none of it. He just continued to bore into Keith, almost dissecting him, making him feel tiny. Keith hated being the center of attention. He hated the look of pure glee in Field's bright blue eyes even more. “If you don’t know what this … _thing_ did to this planet, then there’s no point in trying to explain it to you,” he snarled, and finally looked away to lock gazes with Shiro. “The only thing you need to know is that you married a monster, one that will finally have to pay for his sins.”

The next thing he knew, Keith felt his face snap to the left, the aftershock of Field’s strong punch leaving him panting with his eyes tightly clenched shut. He could hear Shiro yelling, but it was all garbled. Slowly, he picked his head up to glare at his captor, choosing not to say a word.

“The amount of families he’s destroyed,” Field started to say, voice angry and cruel. His statement was followed up by yet another punch, one much stronger than the first. “All the poor children, forced to become orphans, all because _you_ allowed Galra to raid Earth.” 

The next hit had Keith spitting blood, that familiar taste of iron making him nauseous. Shiro’s voice rang through his ears, and he could vaguely make out what exactly he was trying to say. "... we’re _all_ guilty. The other Paladins, the Garrison, _me_ … I allowed all of it to happen. Hurt me instead, Field. Don’t touch him.”

“Your protective nature is charming. And even though you are certainly part of the problem, I’m not here for you. I’m here for him and him only.”

For the next few minutes, all Keith knew was pain, though it might as well have been an eternity. Field poured all of his strength into each punch or kick, and soon, the young man found himself curled up on the floor in a fetal position, unable to block the blows. His treacherous mind sent him back to his childhood, memories of the cruel people he’d been forced to live with making his head spin. At this point, Keith couldn’t make out anything that Shiro was saying, and even his soothing voice wasn’t enough to calm him. His breathing was erratic, each intake of air making his ribs scream. Even still, he barely made a sound, all those years of past abuse having taught him that by not voicing his pain, it would go away quicker. 

Sooner or later, the abuser would grow bored. 

In this case, it happened much later, once Keith was already covered in brand new bruises. He barely registered when he was forced up, arms held by two G.R.E.A soldiers. His tired gaze found his husband, who was watching him fearfully, tears in his eyes. It took a lot for Keith to smile weakly, silently assuring Shiro that he was more or less okay. 

“I must admit, your blade is beautiful.” From behind him, Field’s awful voice caught him off guard, again, and Keith couldn’t help but gasp. His heart was beating way too fast, and he desperately tried to calm himself down while his captor continued. “Looks pretty sharp, too. I wonder what would happen if I…”

Suddenly, without any kind of warning, Field dragged Keith’s own knife down the younger’s left arm, cutting from Keith’s shoulder down to his wrist. This time, the former paladin couldn’t help but groan softly. He’d never been on the receiving end of his precious weapon. Now he knew what his enemies felt — the revelation sent shameful shivers up his spine. The onslaught of guilt made Keith hang his head in defeat, the panic threatening to suffocate him. 

“No, no, no, Keith, don’t do that,” he heard Shiro plead. “Sweetheart, look at me. I need you to look at me.”

Keith did just that, amazed at how well Shiro could read him. The older could sense how remorseful he was feeling, and was doing his best to comfort Keith. However he could. Keith forced himself to relish in Shiro’s knowing, loving gaze while Field continued to cut him. Each swipe was deeper than the last, ranging from his neck to even his legs. By the time the bastard finally seemed to have enough, Keith’s skin was a canvas of bright red, bleeding lines, not just black and blue’s anymore. The original pain had turned into a dull ache, his body almost numb from the shock. Even Shiro’s presence wasn’t enough, all of it having become too overwhelming. 

Field clearly knew that, too. 

“You know, a lot of people, including myself, have always wondered where you got that _nasty_ scar of yours,” he suddenly muttered, and the way he said it made the hairs on Keith’s arms stand up. Pure terror washed over him, made his limbs shake even harder. He could only watch as Field brought his blade right to his cheek, hovering over his scar. 

Without even realizing it, he began to struggle, but it did nothing to deter Field. He simply backhanded Keith, which quickly forced him to stop. Shiro was screaming again, begging for Field not to do this. 

“Don’t you dare, dammit!” he cried, desperation lacing his voice. “Don’t touch him! _Don’t_.”

It was all in vain. All of a sudden, Keith could feel the sharp tip of the knife tracing along that wretched mark. 

Sure, he’d gotten used to it after so many years since the fight with Shiro’s clone. He’d accepted it quicker than Shiro ever did, and he was the one that had to bear the reminder of that wretched war. But this was enough to send him back to that awful day. The scene around him changed, and suddenly he was seeing the fight with Shiro again, watching himself be manhandled by the love of his life. His heart began to race, aching with agony. A broken whimper left his lips, one that made Filed laugh loudly. He continued to trace the edges of the scar, eyes gleaming with excitement. 

“Now we’re getting somewhere!” he exclaimed happily. 

“You’re a fucking sadist, Field!” Shiro yelled in anger, though instead of sounding menacing, he sounded so defeated. “Enough, already!”

“You don’t get to tell me when enough is enough, _Takashi Shirogane_ .” The way Field said Shiro’s name was nothing short of mocking. “Your husband deserves to suffer what he put me through.” Slowly, he cut deeper into Keith’s skin, the deepest he’d ever gone. It was enough for Keith to start sobbing quietly. Everything was just too much. The memories, the flashbacks, _everything._ Why did he have to be so weak?“My family was killed because of you! I want you to _know_ the pain they felt before they died. My daughter. My little girl. Dead, because of you and your kind.”

That immediately hit a wrong note for Keith, and he somehow found the strength to look up and whisper, “I-I’m sorry. I d-didn’t mean t-to … I n-never wanted anyone to…”

Because he truly didn’t. Every time he found out that a child died, he could barely function. Each and every time. Shiro was the only one that could get him out of it, holding him while he cried for days. The emotion stemmed from his past, from a system that failed him time and time again. He certainly never wanted to fail any girl or boy like he’d been, and yet it constantly happened. Whatever he did, there were always innocent children that couldn’t be saved. 

God, why could he be enough? Why couldn’t he protect the people that most deserved it, that needed it most? Why did he always fail those he vowed to keep safe? 

Maybe what happened to Field really was his fault. Maybe he deserved this punishment. Maybe this was how he was meant to pay for his sins. All the self-deprecating thoughts made him break down into tears and press his chin to his chest, unable to pick it back up no matter what Shiro told him. He just felt so overwhelmed and scared. All he wanted to do was curl into himself and just disappear, never to be seen again. 

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Field growled in response to Keith’s desperate, heartfelt apology, hitting Keith once more. There was absolutely no sympathy in his tone, just fury and hatred. No forgiveness whatsoever. 

The next thing he knew, Keith was being grabbed by his hair, dragged up and then thrown back to the ground, right into Shiro’s awaiting arms. They were both crying now. 

“Keith, baby, I’m here, I’m right here,” the older man whispered in his ear, pressing tender kisses to Keith’s temple, forehead, purposefully avoiding his mottled cheek. “We’re okay.”

“You still think so?” Field inquired coldly, sending a signal over to his men, who instantly started to move. “After today, I doubt either of you will ever be _okay_ again.”

The conversation between him and Shiro was barely heard as Keith began to lose consciousness. All he knew was that there was a very small chance that he and his husband would leave their home alive. 

Keith genuinely didn’t have the energy to keep fighting any longer, and soon, familiar darkness consumed him. 

For a while, he didn’t feel anything at all, completely content to remain in oblivion. It wasn’t until he heard Shiro calling for him that he forced his tired eyes to open. 

He certainly hadn’t expected to be surrounded by bright red flames, hot and angry and coming right at him. They were deafening. Keith gasped sharply, right as what Shiro was saying to him became understandable. 

“Hey, hey, hey, Keith, breathe,” the older murmured hurriedly, eyes frantically watching for any danger. His face was also now mottled with bruises and scratches. The fire was inching closer and closer, while the chances of them finding an exit were becoming smaller and smaller. “Baby, we need to get out of here.”

“Kosmo,” Keith croaked, only to cough heavily from the smoke in his lungs. He hadn’t felt this scared in a very long time now. Not since he was a kid, waiting for his father to come out of a burning building with tears streaming down his ashened face. He never did, which was what ultimately started a life full of pain, neglect, and loneliness. Being forced to go back to that same life was probably one of Keith’s worst fears. “Where is he, Takashi, where is he?”

“He’s alright, Keith,” Shiro quickly assured. “I sent him to get help. We’ll be okay, baby, we just need to find a way out. Come on, Keith, get up. On your feet.”

Keith barely had the strength to do it, but he managed, listing against Shiro’s side while they other helped him walk. Together, they stumbled around what used to be their living room, moving through the fire, all while trying not to choke on the flames. All of it seemed to take forever. Time moved so slowly, and Keith wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this for. On top of the pain from his wounds, his mind was on a rampage. Panic pressed down on him, refusing to let go ever for second. “T-Takashi, I-”

“I know, Keith, I know. We’re going to be okay. Just keep going, we’re almost out.”

The young man couldn’t help but sob when fresh air finally hit him, his legs unable to hold his body up any more. He collapsed, Shiro begging him to get back up and run. It was no use. He couldn’t move. 

And then everything behind them exploded, sending Keith and Shiro flying forward, rolling for what seemed like ages until they came to a stop. Somehow, Keith managed to get on all fours, gasping for air, looking at the burning house with disbelief written across his face. His bare back was screaming at him. Still, the adrenaline and the terror sent him scrambling towards the wreckage, screaming for his husband. For whatever reason, his mind immediately convinced him that Shiro was in there, in the blazing mess of their house, trapped with no way to get out. He lost all sense of logic in that moment, and left behind was a terrified, traumatized young man struggling to find the difference between real and fake. 

“T-Takashi, oh God, Takashi, p-please, I can’t-”

And then strong, gentle arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him close. Kisses were pressed to his lips, lingering there. Keith could taste salt in his mouth. His desperate struggles began to cease, and his brain was slowly able to figure out that it was Shiro. _His Shiro_. “We’re okay, sweetheart. I’m here, I’m right here with you. Breathe with me, Keith, you’re safe now.”

No matter how much he tried, Keith still couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t get his breathing back on track. It was just _too much_. “Takashi, o-o-our home. Our beautiful home. It’s g-gone.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Shiro said quietly, weakly. He, too, was shaking violently. “But we’re alive. We’re safe. That’s all that matters. I’m right here, Keith. We’re alright.”

Keith couldn’t do anything but weep. 

What felt like hours later, Iverson, along with the police, finally arrived at the scene, Kosmo in tow. The loyal wolf dashed over to his owners right away, sensing their pain and anguish. He was fast to nuzzle into Keith, to which Keith responded by hugging him as tight as possible, never letting go of Shiro. Not even for a second. Never again. 

That was how he lost consciousness again, absolutely spent and exhausted, grasping onto his family while he sobbed. Keith vaguely remembered hearing the sound of vehicle engines, Shiro urging him to _hold on_ and _stay with me, baby, please_. He gladly let darkness wash over him, way too tired to keep the facade of being okay. He wasn’t at all. 

And to think he just wanted to relax with his husband after a long, hard day. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but the next time he opened his eyes, he was shocked to find himself lying on a hospital bed, in a fully white room. Relief filled him at the thought of _no more red._ Across from him, Kosmo napping on the floor, calm and peaceful and thankfully uninjured. Beeping filled his ears, and Keith realized it was from the different machines around him. 

But what was more shocking was the warm body underneath him and the gentle hand resting on his hip. Upon looking up, Keith couldn’t help but whimper at the sight of Shiro, sleeping soundly with a grimace on his lovely features. Such an expression shouldn’t have ever been there. Like Keith, he was wearing a hospital gown, but bandages wrapped around his arm could be seen. Keith, too, could feel bandages all along his back, hinting at burns from that absolutely terrifying explosion. With guilt sitting heavy on his conscience, Keith didn’t hesitate to reach up and cup the older’s face, to make sure this was actually real. 

Shiro woke up instantly, clearly scared and disoriented at first. However, when his charcoal grey eyes fell on Keith, he visibly relaxed. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

It didn’t take much for Keith to break down into sobs once he heard that. 

“Oh, Keith,” Shiro murmured while he held him, fingers in Keith’s hair. His voice was hoarse, wrecked, cut off by heavy coughing. “Oh, my beautiful Keith. I’m okay, baby, I promise you. We both are.”

Keith found it so hard to speak, clearly the aftereffects of too much smoke inhalation. He still forced his throat to work, needing to say _something._ Even if on top of all that, tears of grief were making it practically impossible. “Oh, God, T-Takashi. I’m so s-sorry. None of this sh-should’ve ever happened. I-I … This is all my f-fault.”

He finished with a broken keen, nuzzling into the crook of Shiro’s neck while the other hugged him tight. He still felt incredibly overwhelmed, and yet he refused to pull away. He couldn’t. 

“Baby, you have to know, I would never blame you for this,” Shiro said after a while, peppering the top of Keith’s head with feather-light kisses. His own silent tears were falling into Keith’s dark locks. “How could you have even guessed that any of this would?”

“I k-know. But … Field was a-after me. _I’m_ the reason why you g-got hurt …. why o-our home was destroyed. And y-you loved it s-so much. I never … wanted to take t-that away from you.”

“Keith.” There was so much sadness in Shiro’s tone, which only made Keith sob harder. “What that monster did wasn’t because of you. If he was after me, I know you wouldn’t blame me, right? So why would I fault _you_ for everything that happened?” He paused so he could use his finger to pick Keith’s chin up, locking their gazes in place. “And, sweetheart, yes, I did love our home. It’s where some of my fondest memories are. But, like you always say, _my home is with you._ That’s never gonna change. As long as I’m with you, Keith, I’ll always feel safe and happy and blessed. Where we live would never change that. I swear it.”

While Shiro’s kind, heartfelt words certainly soothed the pain in his heart, Keith still took a while to calm down. For the next hour, he just laid there, whispering quiet declarations of _I love you_ until he couldn’t speak anymore. He just felt so grateful for Shiro. How was he so lucky to have such a beautiful person in his life, by his side?

“I promise you, Keith, we’re going to be okay,” Shiro said after a while, and leaned in to press a long kiss to Keith’s chapped lips. Neither of them made any effort to pull away for a long time, until Keith gasped in pain and had to separate. 

“Sorry,” he muttered as he curled up into Shiro and closed his tired eyes. 

“Don’t be,” Shiro replied, kissing his temple in assurance. “We’re both hurt. We both need rest. The doctors said they’ll be here in the next few hours.”

Nodding, Keith hummed. “Okay.”

“I love you, Keith. Forever and always.”

The familiar phrase they always shared, and had just said to one another hours earlier in the comfort of their now nonexistent bed, was enough to bring a weak smile on Keith’s face. Maybe they really would be okay. 

“Forever and always,” he whispered back, and let himself fall asleep for the third time. 

The only difference was that now he knew that when he’d wake up, there wouldn’t be anything bad to harm him or the love of his life. For now, they were safe. Everything else could be figured out later. For now, they deserved to let go and try to heal from the nightmare they'd just survived through. They had more than just earned it. 

The End 

**Author's Note:**

> did you like it? leave a comment, bookmark, or kudos! i'd certainly appreciate it, and any feedback is welcomed. if anyone would like to make art for this story, i highly encourage it as well! i'd love for this story to come to life through other peoples' talent <3


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